


Just a Number

by JantoJones



Series: Brief Briefings [60]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2016-11-19
Packaged: 2018-08-31 22:52:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8596924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JantoJones/pseuds/JantoJones





	

September had barely begun, yet the trees which the two U.N.C.L.E. agents were passing were already starting to show the orange hues of autumn. From the passenger seat of the car came an audible sigh. Illya Kuryakin glanced over at his partner, who was staring wistfully at the trees.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked. "We completed the assignment with no injuries, no loss of life, and no destruction of property. You are usually in an insufferably jovial mood in situations such as this."

Napoleon sighed again.

"Fall is upon us once again," he stated. "The years seem to zip by these days."

Illya frowned. There was something about Napoleon's tone which told of something deeper than the changing seasons.

"What is really troubling you, my friend?" he urged.

"Did you see the age of some of those agents at the Boston Office?" he began. "They looked like they were barely out of kindergarten. I'm only thirty-five, but I felt absolutely ancient around them."

"You're not exactly old," Illya stressed. "And given our line of work, you should be thankful to have reached thirty-five at all."

"I know," Solo replied, waving away his partner's words. "But it sometimes feels like I only just graduated from Survival School myself."

Illya smiled slightly. He actually understood what Napoleon was talking about. He had managed to fit an extraordinary amount into his thirty-four years, yet there were days he could swear he'd only just finished his stint in the Soviet navy.

"I wonder if this is what Waverly feels like," Napoleon continued. "He's called us young whippersnappers on more than one occasion."

"What exactly is a whippersnapper?" queried Kuryakin. His English was excellent but there were still many words and phrases which bamboozled him.

"To be honest, Tovarisch, I have no idea of its origin. Still, as long as I'm still considered as one, maybe I'm not so old yet. Hey, don't you have a birthday coming up?"

Illya tried to ignore the question, but Solo pressed on.

"Isn't it in two weeks?"

"You know very well that it is," the blond snapped. "And I am requesting now that you do not make any fuss. In fact, I think I will arrange to be in a different country from you around that date. I also have no wish to be reminded of my age."

"Spoilsport," Napoleon huffed. "Besides, age is just a number."


End file.
